


Entrails and Ecstasy

by BaristaKitty



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa Zero
Genre: DFAB reader, F/M, Gore, Other, Reader is aligned with UD, Reader-Insert, Smut, Student Council Killing Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaristaKitty/pseuds/BaristaKitty
Summary: In ancient times, this sort of brutality wasn’t so unusual, and back then the entire village would flock to the town square to watch an execution.More often than not, they’d bring their kids, too, because death was a part of life and not a dirty secret to be shielded from.It made a mind stronger to watch a little gore.Witches burning, murderers being stoned to death, thieves being hung at the gallows…and of course, who could forget the great gladiator games?(Enoshima has given you an invitation to witness her very first killing game up close, and you've accepted.It's a bloodbath that may or may not live up to expectations, but regardless, Kamukura fucks you in a closet and that makes the entire experience worth it.)





	1. The Killing Game

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here for just the Kamukura smut, you can skip to the second chapter
> 
> Warning for a lot of gore/death in the first chapter
> 
> This more follows DR0's version of the killing game, with events/killings altered from DR3, however this fic features the follow student council members shown in DR3.
> 
> Umesawa - Pikachu hoodie  
> Goryoku - bara  
> Someya - the boy with stuffed animals in his pockets
> 
> Reader is a DFAB SHSL Witch, basically [Kageko](http://i.imgur.com/ETplGYm.png), but you can self insert away! That's the fun of a reader fic! 
> 
> I'd like to give much thanks to [ensembleklavier](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ensembleklavier) for not only editing/beta'ing, but for encouraging me to write this to start with! This work was inspired by a little something she wrote me that I couldn't stop reading over and over again!

Umesawa turned a corner in the dimly lit hallway, lugging an axe almost as big as herself behind her with her right arm, the left broken and dangling behind her.

She was panting, tears running down her face, but compared to the start of the game she’d learned to ignore her own crying and press forward.

It was a major strength, and one that gave her better odds despite her size and a broken limb.

The ability to throw away your feelings, both physical and emotional, in the present in order to have a future was something the others lacked.

She was one of five survivors left, and you were rooting for her, even if she found your advice from earlier creepy and unwelcome (suggesting that she use cupboards to hide herself was a no brainer).

Well, that was to be expected, since you were a spectator and technically a collaborator in this entire operation.

You currently sat in a classroom separated from the rest of the playing ground, a headquarters of sorts with half a dozen monitors that displayed a live feed of most of the game. 

If you were going to be stranded here until it was over, you’d demanded that Enoshima at least provide you with snacks and a comfortable viewing chamber.

Whatever she needed you for, it must have been important to whatever she was planning, because she’d actually complied (but still, she hadn’t bought your loyalty just yet). 

Reclined back in your seat, a cushy swirling recliner from the teachers’ lounge, you absentmindedly munched on a box of strawberry panda shaped cookies and watched as Umesawa pressed her back to a giant pillar at the end of the hallway and hid.

Had she heard someone coming?

By the looks of the third monitor, Goryoku was heading her way from the east wing.

He was equipped with a baseball bat, which naturally would lose to a giant axe, but he was at an advantage with his height and strength. Not to mention that both of his arms were still fully usable.

But Umesawa had the element of surprise on her side.

All of these factors made the outcome unpredictable right now, and you were excited to see Umesawa turn the odds in her favor.

Although you’d chosen to place your bets on her, she was still a dark horse at this point despite having made it into the top five.

Enoshima had placed her bets on Hino, the guy with the glasses who had been one of the first to strike out, and said he looked like a berserker type. She’d been right about the second part, but he went a little too berserk…

Kamukura and Ikusaba had refused to place bets.

It wasn’t like you got anything for winning, but it’d be nice. 

So you sat back and waited.

In ancient times, this sort of brutality wasn’t so unusual, and back then the entire village would flock to the town square to watch an execution.

More often than not, they’d bring their kids, too, because death was a part of life and not a dirty secret to be shielded from.

_ Heh...people are so weak these days _ , you thought to yourself, nearly pushing your recliner too far back with your feet on the table.  _ I miss being a god... _

It made a mind stronger to watch a little gore.

Witches burning, murderers being stoned to death, thieves being hung at the gallows…and of course, who could forget the great gladiator games?

Not that you’d gotten to see any part of Rome up close, considering that Bastet was confined to Egypt to watch over her— _ your _ —patrons.

But you’d witnessed some interesting executions back then, nevertheless. At least, you thought so, otherwise watching Hope’s Peak finest murder each other would feel more distasteful.

Some part of you, deep down, had witnessed far worse, even if you didn’t remember it. 

_ Well…I guess it’s a little different than back then. _

You tilted the box into your mouth to scavenge the crumbs, disappointed in yourself for eating them all before the fight, since this was the last of the strawberry flavor...

There was also the fact that none of the students here were criminals or prisoners of war, but that was irrelevant to someone like you.

What mattered was sitting on the edge of your seat, biting your lip, watching as Goryoku turned the corner. 

Umesawa hunkered down as he did, waited for only a second, then lunged at him, swinging the axe with every ounce of strength in her little body. 

Goryoku swung the bat at her, narrowly missed, and lost his grip on it the moment the blade made contact with his abdomen. Had she hit him a little farther to the left, she would have no doubt cut into his colon. 

Having lost his weapon, Goryoku grabbed Umesawa by the neck just as she’d turned her body flee. 

She hadn’t been fast enough.

She started to lift her good arm to swing her axe again, but he promptly snatched it from her and slung it down rather than use it on her, preferring to use his bare strength.

Because he was such a big person, the impact hadn’t been enough to kill him, but instead a huge flap of skin--a thin, yellow spongy layer of fat lined between his outer flesh and chunks of bright red flesh and some of his bleeding intestines--was dangling from his body, still painfully connected.

A strike like that would have killed someone Umesawa’s size. 

Goryoku continued to squeeze her neck, his other hand trying to press the dangling meat to his body, and slammed her into the wall just behind them. 

Umesawa punched his hand, her legs helplessly kicking in the air all the while her broken arm dangled.

Biting your lip, tears brimming your eyes, you watched in horror as she was pummelled into the wall hard enough to crack it, and after two more blows to the back of her head, she stopped moving.

Goryoku slung her onto the ground, streaks of blood smearing the floor as her body bounced like a stone skipping across the water. 

She was no doubt dead, and your heart...hurt.

You’d been rooting for her, really thought she could make it, and had gotten too emotionally invested. 

It occurred to you that this wasn’t like cheering on a character on a TV show.

Enoshima had been beyond wrong; this wasn’t fun at all now. 

When she’d pitched the idea of Despair to you, she’d made an argument that compared it to the masochistic thrill of letting a cat get too rough with your arm, but this wasn’t nearly the same thing…

There wasn’t any fun in watching someone you’d cared about, even if you’d just met them, getting slaughtered. 

All the same, you realized that it would have made Umesawa’s hypothetical victory all the more gratifying. 

_ The risk/reward ration might not be worth it, though… _

_ Well, what’s done is done. _

You could only continue to watch, maybe pick out a new favorite to root for...who else was left again? 

As Goryoku doubled over, finally taking in the extremities of his injuries, another challenger emerged from the hallway--Someya, who was armed with a pistol and already aiming. 

Despite being covered in blood, he was perhaps the most physically intact player, as none of the blood was actually his save for a dried patch around his nose that he’d acquired at the start of the game.

Playing possum was probably the best idea idea for someone his size, even better than hiding in cupboards. 

But with all that blood, the only remaining plushie in his pockets, the green dinosaur in the front, was probably ruined...bleach would just discolor the entire thing. 

Goryoku was cornered, and could only sidestep away from the barrel of the gun as Someya stepped closer to him.

And then he opened fire--once, twice--and chucked the gun at him, hitting him square in the forehead. 

When Goryoku instinctively reached up to his face, Someya took the opportunity to charge at him and skid under his legs, reminiscent of a soccer player skidding into a goal, and simultaneously jabbed his hand into the gaping wound in his side.

He’d wrapped his fist around his intestines, and dragged the entrails out, yanking them underneath him and forcing him down flat on his face. 

Someya let go of them as he hurried back to his feet, scurried to collect his gun, grab the axe  Umesawa had dropped, and dashed out of the room just as quickly as he’d entered, confident that his opponent wouldn’t last much longer.

Of course, he wouldn’t, and it had to be adrenaline alone that propelled him to rise up to all fours and then push himself back to his feet.

Hands shaking, he reached down and pulled his insides back up, carrying them with him as he pressed his weight against the wall and started limping; it almost didn’t look real, more like a life sized doll with a busted seam and dyed red stuffing that had been too tightly packed.

Blood was dripping out of him in clots, leaving a trail of puddles as he took his leave to lay down and die somewhere--probably one of the dozen or so closets that would at least allow him some privacy.    
He’d fought, won most of the time, and then lost, and although you couldn’t help being bitter towards him for taking out Umesawa, you didn’t start scanning the monitors to see where he’d go. 

And that was it for this little battle in the tournament to survive.

You sad back, let out a shaky breath, eyes wandering back to Umesawa’s corpse. 

Considering that she’d been your combatant of choice, it was only polite to go close her eyes, maybe chant a spell to give her some guidance into the afterlife…

And then you caught a set of red eyes peering out from the darkness of behind the second pillar in the corner.

Kamukura had been watching this entire scene and you’d failed to notice him!

_ He’s like a cryptid! I didn’t notice him at all... _

_...Oh, yeah, I was wanting to talk to him!  _

Enoshima couldn’t be trusted to listen in on what you’d wanted to ask him, and she’d figured out too much about you for comfort already. 

You’d had no doubt about it from the the moment you’d laid eyes on him, having felt the overwhelming energy that surrounded him.

And learning who he was only solidified it.

Like yourself, Kamukura Izuru was a reincarnated god.


	2. The Sex

Much to your relief, Kamukura hadn’t moved from that spot.

He was already staring in your direction as you turned the corner, probably eager to see whose footsteps were echoing so heavily and carelessly.

“Kamukura-kun!” You waved a little at him as you approached, careful to step over Umesawa’s corpse, careful to not step on it.

He didn’t wave back, but stared at you pointedly as you looked back at the remains of your favorite contestant.

It was…quite a mess, seeing her remains up close.

Her neck was still tilted upwards, eyes wide and frozen, lips a light tint of blue.

“It’s kinda...sad, huh?” This conversation already felt awkward, and in retrospect you probably should’ve approached him with a strategy.

You knelt next to her body, put a hand to her cheek. Already cold. 

“She was really cute…I was rooting for her, y’know…” No doubt she was terrified of you, but since she’d at least followed your advice, she must not have  _ hated _ you.

After all, this game wasn’t  _ your _ idea…

With a heavy sigh, you slowly waved a hand over her eyes and shut them.

In ancient times, because you’d have deemed her as worthy as a follower, there would have been at least a ceremony. You’ve had demanded it!

_ She was my little warrior...she fought so hard! If she’d won, I would have made sure she was on the winning team next time... _

“Kamukura-kun, do you know what happens to people when they die?” You asked nonchalantly, fetching a black marker from your jacket pocket and drawing a circle on Pika-chan’s left cheek.

“Their organs cease functioning, primarily the brain, which is usually the last to go. The machine that is the body shuts down permanently,” he replied curtly.

“Mm…yes,” you said, drawing a sigil into the circle. “But I mean more, the soul…what happens to the essence and consciousness that makes a living being function. The thing that separates from us from artificial intelligence, I mean.”

For good measure, you draw the shape of a cat head on her other cheek.

“There’s no proof a soul exists,” he replied.

“Isn’t there? Kamukura-kun, the scientists at Hope’s Peak created you from a Reserve Course student, right? Enoshima let me look at the paperwork when she was investigating...and that’s what I read, but you don’t have that weak and fragile spirit about you at all! So obviously...your soul is different than what it used to be--“

“I don’t retain any memories from who I was before, and it doesn’t matter. Whoever they were, I’m obviously an improvement, if that’s what you’re getting at. The subject doesn’t interest me.”

“But they can’t just create an entirely new person out of another person,” Screwing the cap back onto your marker, you stuffed it back into your pocket and stood up, facing him.

“Kamukura-kun, because you’re alive, you have a soul. I know because I ‘see’ it—if you have every talent ever, you have to sense aura and energy, right? Yours is super strong, I noticed, just like mine, and so I truly believe…”

You stared into his eyes, hoping to convey sincerity. “That you’re a fragment of a god’s soul. In other words, a reincarnated god trapped in a mortal shell.”

His expression didn’t change, but he looked away from you and crossed his arms.

He didn’t say anything. You’d made him think, at least….

Was he considering the possibility?

Supergenius or no, the world (no, the world of universe) was full of possibilities—including the chance that your own philosophy wasn’t correct, of course—and he couldn’t completely deny it.

His energy practically screamed that he wasn’t human, and it made you feel warm simply being in his presence.

And that energy was exactly what had drawn Enoshima to him, and to yourself to a lesser extent. Whatever grand plan she had in mind, she needed powerful spirited people on her side.

You screwed back onto your marker and stuffed into your pocket.

Oh, well. It didn’t matter what she wanted to do. You’d gotten your revenge on the school and then some.  

A few seconds of deliberation, he looked back to you and unfolded his arms.

“I see...as the SHSL Witch, that’s your belief, is it? That the origins of your power stem from your past life as an ancient god?”

You nodded, shrugging a little and laughing nervously, because if he didn’t believe you, this would be embarrassing. “Yeah, I tell everyone I’m more like...the equivalent of a priest to save face, but the truth is that I’m a fragment of the god known most commonly as ‘Bastet’. ”

“I cannot confirm or deny the existence of a soul, or the validity of your claims. It’s possible. I’m far above a talentless, normal person. Even here, among the most talented people in the world, my existence is superior. I suppose it isn’t inaccurate to call me a god, even if that title is just a word humans attached to beings they created out of necessity, or otherworldly visitors. Why are you asking? Are you challenging me?”

“Oh, no, no…” You shook your head. “Of course not! I’m not here to fight you or challenge you…Kamukura-kun, I have no problem admitting that whichever god you are, whoever you might really be, you’re much more powerful than I am! It took me a long time to get here, anyway…there’s not much of my original power in this body.”

“I see…”

“I just wanted to confirm it for myself, and tell you privately…” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Because I didn’t want to say anything in front of Enoshima.”

Kamukura looked to the camera in the corner peering down at the entire room at the mention of Enoshima.

You continued. “She’s already figured out too much about me on her own. I didn’t tell her this, so...I’ve kinda...made this a life goal, finding other beings like myself who are also trapped here...but you’re at a really nice advantage.”

Before you could overthink your way out of saying it, you smiled at him. “I mean, you were cast into a body that was genetically modified to already be superior in comparison to other humans, and on top of that, you’re the most attractive I’ve ever seen! Even from a distance, without reading your energy, I’d definitely think, ‘yup, Kamukura-kun sure is handsome and godly!’”

He kept watching the camera, maybe not even listening to your attempts to flatter him. 

Maybe he’d never actually considered the possibility of being a god in a literal sense before. No matter how strong and powerful he was, his existence was still something new. According to those documents, he  _ was  _ brought into being less than a year ago.

You stared at him while he wasn’t looking at you, eyed his figure and how the dim lighting in the room made his presence all the more ominous and exciting; you couldn’t help but fixate your eyes on the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

It took some concentration to not to get flustered, but you bit your lip and quickly glanced away when you felt his eyes snap back on you. 

What kind of life had Kamukura lived up until now?

You wondered.

Hope’s Peak had wanted to create him for their own purposes, obviously, but what were those purposes? Obtaining power? It certainly seemed so. The contracts that all faculty took up, the interviewing process—all of it required a cemented love and passion for talent, and anyone permitted into the staff had to have at one themselves.

Talent was power, and power ruled. And the humans who tended to gain the most power were obsessed with it.

He’d been nothing but a tool for them from the start, and he had to have figured that already. Maybe he hated them for creating him.

No one  _ asks _ to be born.

And some people would rather not be born at all.

At the very least, he didn’t feel positively towards his creators, or else he wouldn’t be here right now, watching a killing game for fun and actively participating in causing trouble for them.

Kamukura was a mystery you may never figure out, but that made him all the more alluring.

“Hey.” He finally spoke, nodding slightly towards the doorway. “Follow me.”

“Uh, okay…” You didn’t get the impression that Kamukura wanted to finish you off, or challenge you to some trail of godhood. If he wanted to pick a fight with you, he’d be sorely disappointed.

One punch from him and you’d hit the floor. He’d bust an organ and probably instantly kill you. No question.

But Kamukura  _ didn’t  _ intend to kill you (what would be the fun in that?), and lead you down an intricate path of hallways, occasionally opening a door, peeking in, then closing it just as quickly.

He was looking for something.

Possibilities raced through your mind as you started to struggle to keep up with his pace.

A secret passageway? Had he maybe tied up the last of the contestants and was going to force them to fight each other gladiator style? If so, that would explain the sudden quiet.

“Here,” he decided, coming to an empty closet at the end of the hallway, next to a massive storm window. You noticed that there were no cameras in this hallway. It was a blind spot.

Glancing out, the night was quiet and there were no signs of policemen or security that might have been alerted to what was going on. 

Enoshima’s ability to actually isolate an area was admirable. 

“Here,” he repeated, holding the door open and looked at you expectantly.

“Alright…” It made more sense to hide a secret passageway in this sort of inconspicuous place.

As you entered inside, you noticed a single lightbulb above your head and reach up to pull the string just before Kamukura shut the door behind you.

It was spacey enough in here, but all of the shelves were emptied out and some graffiti scribbled on the wall, declaring “YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE” in pink ink.

“So…” You turned around to ask him what exactly was going on here, and bumped your shoulder into his chest, having snuck up close to you.

He didn’t answer.

“Kamukura-kun…?” Suddenly, you felt timid in his presence. Acutely aware of how small you were by comparison.

“You were staring.” 

“Um...what? Staring at...what?” You’d been caught.

He said nothing.

You looked back up at him, realizing that there was no way to lie about it. 

And more importantly, why lie? If he was confronting you, it had to meant that he was staring at your staring at him which obviously meant he was interested.

_ There’s no reason to be nervous! W-We’re both gods, after all... _

Clearing your throat a little, unintentionally squeaking, you gave a small shrug.

“W-Well, y’know...I couldn’t help it. Kamukura-kun... I’d just been thinking to myself, ‘I really haven’t encountered another being like myself up until this point’...”

He grabbed your braid suddenly, a little too harshly, prompting you to gasp and he took the chance to lean down, push his lips to yours, and shove his tongue into your mouth.

It was overpowering, but you’d already thought about this, secretly wished for it--how it would feel underneath him, what he would taste like, how big his dick must be...if he was a perfect being,  _ everything  _ had to be perfect, right?

He didn’t taste like anything, but the sensation of his tongue down your throat, nearly choking you and giving little room to breath, made your skin hot. 

Kamukura let go of your braid and grabbed your hair closer to the scalp, holding your head in place, and glided his other hand up your shirt to rest it alongside your waist and give it a firm squeeze that almost tickled. 

When you attempted to pull your head back and catch your breath, it took a few attempts for him to stop.

Panting, saliva trickling down the side of your chin, you felt embarrassed that it was so difficult to keep up with him. 

He watched with a neutral expression as you nervously wiped the drool with your sleeve.

Amazingly enough, he hadn’t broken a sweat. It was...attractive. 

You couldn’t help but smile and reached over to his jacket, tugged on the material. It was surprisingly coarse and felt cheap; you absently wondered if he still wore a Reserve uniform so he would stand out less. “H-Hey, that was really...really good…”

He took your compliment as willingness to do it again, and kissed you just as hard, this time capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging. 

It was easier to melt into him this time, with your head getting foggy with lust. 

Kamukura pulled you closer to him, relinquished his grip on your hair and pressed your body into his. Feeling so absolutely overpowered made you wet. 

You could feel him breathing, your breasts pushed into his chest almost painfully, and his dick was rubbing against your abdomen through the constraints of his pants.

It was okay to touch it, surely, so you did, feeling down his torso and palming at it  with a satisfied hum.

He gasped slightly at being grabbed--barely audible--but it was there, and he pushed it into your hand, obviously liking it. 

His dick felt just as big as you’d imagined, and as you wrapped your fingers around the base as best as you could and stroked it. Glancing down, you could see the thick outline growing. 

It was difficult to remember the last time you’d wanted someone inside of your body so badly. 

Without any warning, Kamukura suddenly reach under your skirt and yanked your panties down past your thighs.

They fell down to your ankles, and no sooner had they hit the floor, he pushed a finger between your vulva and forcing you to squeak.

He slid the tip of his finger inside of you, prodded at you just enough to force your hips to spasm with anticipation. 

You whimpered pathetically, rubbing your thumb at the head of his dick, feeling the slightest hint of wetness leaking through the fabric.”K-Kamukura-kun, c’mon...don’t tease me...I really want you…”

“Impatient.” But he didn’t sound frustrated, and simply wiped your fluids onto your skirt before pulling your hand away from his crotch and unzipping his pants. 

Fully erect, his dick was the prize you’d imagined: long, thick, with some veins visible beneath the skin.

_ This’ll be hard to handle… _

But you could take it.

He wrapped an arm around your waist shoved your back into the wall, then effortlessly hoisted your body off of the ground. You tried awkwardly to steady yourself on the wall at first, before resigning yourself to hold onto his shoulders instead. 

It was uncomfortable. The wall was cold. It’d have been easy to just do it on the floor...

He pushed your legs apart with his free hand and positioned his cock against your pussy, rubbing the head against your clit a few times, probably because he enjoyed seeing your squirm and whine.

_ Heh...Kamukura-kun is totally into this,  _  you thought pridefully. 

He flipped your skirt upwards, wanting to watch himself enter into you.

It was going to hurt. 

Your squeezed his shoulders and bit the inside of your cheek  and glanced down shyly, watching him slowly push his dick in. 

Your pussy was already aching, stretching to accommodate him, but being so wet already at least made it easier--still, it was almost too much, and you wanted to hide your face in his chest while he did this. At the current angle that was impossible, so instead you turned your head from him shyly and stared at the empty corner. 

He’d only gotten the head in, but he pulled out, repositioned himself, then grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed his entire dick into your body all at once. 

You shrieked, having not expected him to just...charge in. Filled to the hilt, feeling your body adjusting as he pushed against your cervix; as painful as it was, it felt  _ good _ \--so good that you couldn’t contain your voice and let yourself moan as he pulled back and thrusted forward again. 

Kamukura looked satisfied, lips slightly parted, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his jaw. 

Being so full of him, bodies connected, this felt like maybe the closest sensation to heaven that could be achieved in this lifetime. 

He started to fuck you, pulling himself in and out at a hard and fast pace that would no doubt leave your insides bruised tomorrow. With each thrust, because he was so thick, he was rubbing against your clit every time.

Your body was squeezing him, not that it had to, and your nerves were on fire. 

He was panting, and you had to close your eyes to hear him, but you wanted to hear more, make sure he knew that you knew he felt this good…

Wrapping your legs around him, you straightened your back just slightly against the wall (which didn’t feel so cold anymore), and he gasped. 

Kamukura didn’t seem to mind, and kissed you again, nearly suffocating you, his voice reverberating against the roof of your mouth.

He didn’t slow down for a second, and it didn’t take long for you to cum, the orgasm overtaking every inch of you and leaving neon dots sprinkled across your vision.

You weren’t able to come down with him still inside of you, still sliding his cock in and out of you, but he didn’t last much longer. 

He buried himself all the way inside of you, the head of his dick pushing your cervix painfully, and came.

His dick twitched erratically, and you could feel his hot cum spurting into you as he rolled his hips slightly, emptying himself out. 

He closed his eyes, only for a moment, and laid his head against your chest, lazy pushing into you a few more times strengthening his grip on your hips. 

And then, just as quickly as he’d penetrated you, he pulled out.

It had been great, no doubt the best sex you’d ever had, and yet...

You wanted to just...lay down and sleep, and your insides felt raw and like you’d be sore for a few days.

_ Worth it… _

Kamukura waited until your feet were back on the ground to let go, and promptly tucked himself back into his pants while you wished that the wall was cool again and panted. 

Slowly, your head was clearing. 

You realized that you’d been crying, tears still rolling down your face.

Embarrassed, you quickly wiped them and smiled through half lidded eyes. 

He was staring at you, and in the back of the mind you wondered if maybe he  _ had  _ been testing you, after all. 

Maybe he believed what you’d said. Or maybe he’d just been really turned on, and you were there.

Maybe…

You were too tired to dwell on it.

He reached over, pulled a stray lock of hair from your left eye that you’d failed to notice, and resumed his silent observation, turning his attention to where his cum was dripping down your thigh.

You quickly reached down and pulled up your panties, wiping it on the inside of them as you did so and feeling the warmth of more of it dripping out of you. There was...a lot…

_ I should say something… _

“Th-that felt...really good...you felt really good, I mean….” Your voice was small, still shaking. 

“Yeah. So did you.”

“Th-thanks.”

Noting that you’d regained your composure at least enough to form words, he turned back to the door and opened it, stepping out.

You followed him, the air outside refreshing.

The hallway was still empty. It was still quiet.

You wondered if anyone else had been murdered, because you were ready  for this entire thing to be over so you could go to bed and rest. 

Kamukura took a few steps to the right, then turned back to you. “Go the other way in a few minutes. Don’t follow me. Enoshima doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Y-yeah...right…”

You slumped against the wall and yawned into your hand, watching him disappear into the shadows as he turned the corner.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> This felt really experimental, and I had a lot of fun writing it, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed~


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